


Brimming

by yeaka



Category: Super Mario Odyssey (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29550924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Crazy Cap Lady digs Crazy Cap Dude.
Relationships: Crazy Cap Employee/Crazy Cap Employee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Brimming

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Mario Odyssey or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

When corporate first sat her down and told her she was being transferred to a remote outpost in a floating kingdom of fire and despair where the only customers were sharp-beaked birds and maniacal turtles, she almost quit. She couldn’t even muster up the usual forced smile that her retail job made mandatory. As soon as she left the office, she took off her four-story-tall hat and screamed into its center, then went home to throw her vintage collection of multi-colour misshapen ball-caps at the wall. 

Then she showed up for her first day, neatly arranged all the hat-related memorabilia across her purple-colour-coded desk out of a deeply ingrained sense of duty, and glanced aside at her golden counterpart.

He gave her a nervous smile back and a little wave. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Out of all the guys in the company, all the forks and ghosts and straight-up sentient snails, she got _him_. And he’s still there. Even though they got the absolute worst posting in the galaxy. The guy outside—stuck in a world-themed samurai ensemble—can’t stop whining about it. But inside, the two of them are the portrait of professionalism, and he stands tall and strong like there’s nowhere he’d rather be.

She sucks in a deep breath and stands there, staring straight ahead at their non-existent clientele, and drinks him in out the corner of her eye. What a tall glass of water. Of vodka. Her favourite champagne. He makes the silly yellow suit _work_ way better than her stiff purple blazer. She loves his little purple pocket square. Even his pants match, and sure, the uniform’s all company-created, but he wears it so well and really makes it his own. Together, they more than match: they _go_. They fit together like a top hat on a sombrero on a headband. 

He adjusts his tie for the tenth time in the last hour. She picks at a gold button and pretends not to notice the way he straightens his precariously-balanced Crazy Cap signature selection atop his pretty head. The sunshine hue goes so well with his blond hair and really brings out the blue in his eyes. He turns his handsome face to look at her, and she looks back. For a moment, they almost speak, but they break off in nervous laughter and look away together. 

Eventually, he mutters, “Busy sales day, huh?”

“Yeah,” she laughs, “totally.”

They haven’t sold a single thing all week. Maybe they never will again. Maybe this is the death of both their careers. There’s something vaguely romantic about the idea of going up in flames _together_. 

Another long stretch passes. She checks and re-checks her inventory, which takes woefully little time. She doesn’t have anywhere near as much in stock as he does, and she doesn’t have mystery items in the back. But hers are at least customized to their surroundings. Cuter, in a way. Cute like the way he stands with his hands folded in front of him like the picture of politeness. 

“So...” he starts again.

And she leaps in with, “Hm?” Which makes him fall silent, and she has nothing useful to say either. 

He pivots half a step towards her. Taking a breath, she traitorously swivels right, taking her attention off the door and onto _him_.

He asks, “Do you want to go for coffee sometime? Back in New Donk, I mean. When we get a break. If we get a break. I mean, if we get one together. I don’t think they have a place here, but—”

“I’d love to.”

“Oh.”

He smiles. She smiles. She’s smiling _so wide._

And now the ice is broken, so maybe she can finally ask what his name is. She tries to introduce herself first, because there’s no reason to be so anxious now, even with all the butterflies in her stomach, because she didn’t imagine all this chemistry and clearly _he likes her too_ , so she turns and opens her mouth—

A squat little freak of nature with bulging eyes and a mismatched mustache backflips into the shop screeching, “ _Wahoo_ ,” rams right into the counter, buys everything in the store, tears off all his clothes and races away with both nipples out and a cloud of opaque dust behind him.

“Maybe we need that drink now.” 

Her gold counterpart disappears into the stock room and reemerges with an upside down fedora-shaped mug full of cranberry juice, and they bond over newly-shared trauma and a mutual admiration for hats and each other.


End file.
